


Of Names Old and New

by knightenchanted



Series: Trespasser and Beyond [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Post-Trespasser DLC, Trespasser DLC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 06:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6227521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightenchanted/pseuds/knightenchanted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evelyn and Cullen prepare to leave Skyhold for South Reach. With a new journey ahead of them, they leave behind the names that once defined them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Names Old and New

**Author's Note:**

> "I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people, and we've suffered enough." ~Seventy Years of Sleep #4 (Nikka Ursala).

No one envied the role of the Herald and the Inquisitor, but for the past three years, Evelyn Trevelyan had shouldered those titles in dutiful obligation. Ever ambitious, she had sought to turn those words into more than an empty idea and a name passed through idle whispers, but a pillar for order and justice, and a symbol of hope that Thedas would remember. It was only inevitable that some would fear a divine figure rising beyond their reach.

But titles didn’t come without cost. For over three years, Evelyn always played her part with intricate masks – masks that fit almost too well that it was easy to mistake for her true face. In reality, her true face had needed a facade to survive long before the Inquisition. Titles replaced her name and masks became her face till she no longer valued herself without them. Evelyn Trevelyan would have faded into the Void had she not had her friends and lover to ground her, to see that the woman underneath those titles and masks _mattered_.

The Evelyn who marched up to the dais of the Exalted Council was not the same woman who fell out of the Fade, Marked for a perilous fate. She was a woman who had learnt that trophies were not a measure of value and who believed herself worthy without the titles to adorn her name. In her final act as the Inquisitor, she gave the Inquisition the fate it deserved, a conclusion in acceptance of its purpose having met and the refusal to belong to anyone but the people who so justly dedicated themselves to its cause. The shouts of confusion and shock followed her as she strode out of the hall, but she never looked back.

After thirty years, Evelyn was ready to lock away her masks for good and to claim her name as her own. It was time to abandon her titles, and let the deeds carried under them leave a legacy behind that would inspire others. The real Evelyn could then be left in peace.

***

There was no rest for the Inquisition when they returned from Halamshiral. Disbanding the Inquisition proved to be an arduous process that Evelyn and her advisors rivaled the volume of work to the early recruiting stage of the Inquisition. In the end, the stress was never felt so keenly as the sense of loss for the Inquisition – the _people_ that dedicated themselves to its cause. With every name they signed off, every hand they shook and every face they watched walk out the gates of Skyhold, they could only hope that the Inquisition had truly made a difference. In their final words of parting, ‘Herald’ and ‘Inquisitor’ were murmured reverently to Evelyn, only without the awe and grandeur they once carried. The cursory glances at her missing arm were not one of pity, but of gratitude to her sacrifice.

It was a struggle for Evelyn to adjust to her missing limb, but over the weeks that followed, she had learnt to modify her approach to mundane tasks and accept help when she had surpassed her limits. Her hair was shorter and she chose to forgo her usual ponytail so that her dark waves fell loosely to her shoulders. With each passing day, the smile behind her eyes grew a little brighter, but her loss still weighed on her spirit.

Unbeknownst to her, Cullen had commissioned Harritt and Dagna to design a prosthesis for her. It was his gift to her that she didn’t need but he believed she deserved. She cried when he had first presented it to her. It would never be the same as her lost arm, but the sense of weight and mobility were a welcome feeling, like an old friend returning home. It gave her hope that the price of becoming the Inquisitor had not taken even the smallest pleasures away from her, like the desire to embrace her husband with both arms.

Months passed and snow had melted to reveal the first signs of spring, old titles had no meaning in Skyhold and Evelyn’s spirit had renewed fully. Most had already left the Inquisition, including Evelyn’s companions and many of her most trusted agents. The fortress that had been revived into a home and sanctuary was soon to become a forgotten relic again, though Evelyn had taken measures in the event Solas ever returned. She would make good on her promise to do whatever it took to stop him.

On their final day in Skyhold, Evelyn visited Cullen in his office, too bare now to be recognizable as the work station of the Commander. The haphazardly scattered books, papers and ornaments which littered his office were either donated or burned, while his most essential belongings were loaded onto the carriage that awaited them in the courtyard below.  Only the simple, unadorned furnishings remained. One stood particularly emphasized by the setting sunlight that streamed from his window, and she was sure it was the Maker humoring them.

“It’s a shame we can’t take that desk with us,” she sighed from his doorway, disappointment not entirely exaggerated.

Without glancing away from his task, Cullen remarked, “I can think of plenty of other furnishings to have my way with you, Evelyn.”

Evelyn chuckled as she joined his side. Cullen was crouched by a large iron chest, brushing his hands in silent farewell over the armor that had rarely left his skin. Instead of his armor, Cullen opted for a tanned leather jacket and breeches. Evelyn had to admit that retirement looked well on him. His shoulders were unburdened by the weight of his armor and he carried himself upright with only a mild grievance to his lingering headaches. It was strangely satisfying just observing his chest rise and fall with every breath, unrestricted by layers of steel. Evelyn wrapped her arms around his shoulders, relishing in the warmth and sturdy planes of his back.

“Do you think you’ll miss it?” she said, adding a kiss to his neck that caused a hum of contentment from him.  

“Honestly? I would miss how familiar that life came to me.” He turned to face her and she adjusted herself to straddle his lap. Cullen studied her as if he were relearning every line, curve and mark, and each one he accepted lovingly. Their eyes met, amber against steel, and the colours had never looked softer reflecting in each other. He placed a delicate kiss on her brow.

“But I like where this new life is taking me.”

Evelyn smiled as she pressed her lips to his. “As do I.”

Retirement finally granted them the opportunity to travel to South Reach for a long overdue visit to Cullen’s siblings. The future beyond that remained a mystery, however. For two meticulously structured and calculative strategists, it was a rare instance in which they had forgone a plan. As long as they were together though, they could take tomorrow one day at a time.  

Their moment was interrupted by a sharp bark, and they jerked their heads towards the sound. Pup, Cullen’s affectionate name for his grey and white mabari, pawed his way over to them. Both of them stifled a laughter as they noticed Pup was carrying Cullen’s trademark fur coat – something he had neglected to store away - over his back. The collar draped around Pup’s shoulders, albeit a little unevenly. The whole attire on him would have been ridiculous if he hadn’t worn it so unashamedly. Satisfied with their attention, Pup sat in front of them and grinned in a discerningly proud mabari fashion. Evelyn’s bright laughter was such a welcome sound to Cullen’s ears that he did not begrudge her as she extracted herself from him. She knelt in front of Pup to fit the coat properly, allowing the fur collar to wrap around his neck like the lion’s mane Cullen denied all similarity to.

“How handsome you look today, Commander,” she crooned to him. He watched that tell-tale shift in her eyes at a passing of an epiphanic thought, an observance he had made after constantly finding his mind drift away from her words to the mesmerizing grey of her eyes. Too often that had happened that he thought he would soon know her well enough to read her through her eyes alone. And he was right.

“Commander.”

“What?” Cullen answered immediately. Though that title had not belonged to him in some months, it was too practiced to be unlearned so soon.

“No, I mean - I’ve thought of a name for your mabari, Cullen. _Commander._ ”

“Why would you name him after me?”

“I never said I’m naming him _after_ you. I think he wears the name well on his own. He has a strong heart, is a natural leader and commands confidence and respect,” she said seriously, though a glint in her eyes followed almost too quickly for him to catch. “Plus, he’s a little stubborn and can be disagreeable with orders he doesn’t like, but on the odd occasion, I can still have him follow _my_ orders.”

“Maker’s breath, Ev,” Cullen sighed in exasperation. Though he expected some disagreement from Pup, the mabari didn’t dispute her reasoning, and he had to wonder if it was really Evelyn that Pup had chosen as his companion.

Evelyn pointedly ignored Cullen as she scratched the large beast’s head. “What do you think, boy, do you like that name?”

Pup looked at Cullen with something eerily akin to an apology, and barked affirmatively at Evelyn.  She grinned as she practiced the name to him. The syllables rolled off her tongue in familiarity, but not in the way she used with him - authoritative, argumentative, and even flirtatious. Somehow the name fitted differently on Pup, who immediately beamed with excitement at his new name. He was proud in a way Cullen never had reason to feel with that title. To him, that title spoke the chance for redemption and atonement for past transgressions. Pup wore the name without burdens or a need to fulfill a righteous duty, but with such confident approval that Cullen couldn’t think of a more perfect name for him. Evelyn was right, Pup – _Commander_ \- wore the name well on his own.

“Just admit it, you missed ordering the Commander around,” Cullen teased with a smirk.

_Report, Commander. What’s the plan, Commander? What was that excuse for a bridge, Commander?_

“Hmm? I don’t know what you could possibly mean by that,” she threw over her shoulder, though Cullen was able to make out that smug pull of the corner of her lips.  

Evelyn rose and made her way to his doorway. “I should finish stowing away my own belongings before I forget anything.  You’re welcome to join me when you’ve finished up here.”

She shot him a sly look before she called, “Or you could accompany me now, Commander.”

Cullen growled as his body flinched in automatic response to the command, and his newly named mabari brushed past him to follow his mistress. He shook his head in amusement. It would take some time to get used to - for both of them. It had been many years since they’ve only had their own names to answer to, but just like the Inquisition, it was time to accept their purpose having been fulfilled and to reclaim their selves without their titles.

Cullen turned back to the armor sitting in his chest and observed his reflection in its polished steel. Hard edges were wearing away to softer features – his cheeks were fuller, jaw rounder and lines etched from laughter around his eyes were prominent now where they had been hidden away by too many shadows before. It is not the appearance of a man who was once a Templar and Knight-Captain, but of a Commander who had willingly put his armor aside- and he was glad for it.

He shut the lid of the chest, locking away his armor for the first time in twenty years. His sword remained strapped to his side, unwilling to let that part of him go just yet. The boy from Honnleath’s dream to be a warrior would always remain, even if his only cause now was to himself and Evelyn.

The gold ring on his right hand blinked delicately as it caught the light of dusk, reminding him of the woman who had helped him reach this point. Shutting the door to his tower, Cullen made his way to Evelyn’s chambers. He couldn’t be more ready for the journey that awaited them.


End file.
